Swing Sets and Blackbirds
by Ziegod Lizski
Summary: Swinging on a park swing set, Harry and Ginny discover that they are trapped in the same mental prison. Mild songfic to Paul McCartney's "Blackbird."


Swing Sets and Blackbirds  
  
Unknown hands had slathered clouds across a pale summer sky like pinky lavender marshmallow fluff. A light breeze swept across Harry Potter's face, bringing with it the noise and clutter from a nearby highway, the feathery scent of honeysuckle just masking the odor of burnt asphalt.   
  
He didn't remember how he got there. Somehow his legs had just carried him; he has seen the park from a distance in a Weasley quidditch match.  
  
They just don't understand, he thought, sitting down on a swing. Since Cedric's passing, they'd all acted so strangely around him, their every eye blink calculated...He just wanted to be alone.  
  
And now he was.  
He kicked of the ground, pumping his lanky legs as hard as he could.  
He had always loved swing sets.  
  
As a young boy, he would sneak out of the Dursley's home at night and swing on the swing set in a nearby park. Closing his eyes and imagining himself flying, he was free. He fancied that if he swung over the top bar, he'd end up in another world, a world where his parents had never died in a car crash. Unfulfilled, he would trudge back to Privet Drive, still yearning for more--hoping for magic.  
  
The magic he found in the real' world was coarse and bittersweet with the truth about his parents and the unseen danger of Voldemort. But swing sets--they were pure, unbridled magic, and somehow his firebolt paled in comparison, unable to give him the freedom he lusted for.  
  
_Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
All your life  
You were only waiting for this moment to arrive_  
  
***  
  
Nighttime found him swinging, still trying desperately and almost insanely to swing over the top bar. A voice called his name, and he nearly fell off his swing; he caught a glimpse of long auburn hair in the moonlight, and for a quixotic moment, he thought it might be an angel.  
  
But it was only little Ginny Weasley. Well, she wasn't really little anymore; she was nearly eye-to-eye with him. But there was certainly something mysterious about the girl who shared Ron's gangly frame. Taciturn and lovely, she spent most of the time hiding in corners by herself. Hell, she read even more than Hermione did.  
  
A small smile crept across her face when she saw him  
  
Er, Harry, Mum's worried sick about you. She's got the whole family working as a search party! And poor Percey had to explain to the twins that alcohol is not dispensed at search parties! It was a nightmare!  
  
I, er, just needed a moment to myself, that's all.  
  
She nodded lightly, confused by his odd location.  
  
Grinning, he gestured to the empty swing beside him. Why don't you join me?  
  
With much trepidation and fearful that her legs might give out under her, she did so.  
  
I just feel so caged, he thought out loud, looking up at the sky, Everyone's been so careful around me lately. They never let me out of their sight--I swear Ron's even been following me into the loo, he chuckled. And I know they mean well, but--sorry. I didn't mean to dump all this on you.  
  
It's all right, she half-whispered, I know exactly how you feel. After the Chamber of Secrets, er...No one ever talks to me, Harry. They think they're being polite by not asking questions, but they just end up ignoring me. Like I'm some sort of freak. And Mum and Dad are just as bad! They never leave me alone.  
  
The two continued to swing in mutual silence, relishing in the chained freedom of the swing set.  
  
_Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see  
All your life  
You were only waiting for this moment to be free._  
  
Harry broke the calm. Ginny--I never knew. I guess I'm just as guilty as the others.  
  
It's all right, I guess it makes up for me sending you that dreadful valentine. What did I say? That you're eyes were as green as--  
  
A fresh pickled toad.  
  
The two slowed to a stop, and their eyes locked, seeing each other in an entirely new light. The green eyes that seemed to show such courage were now only the facade of heroism; Ginny's dark eyes that Harry had thought had hid so much now displayed her autobiography. If you knew how to read it. The brave knight proved to be a strange, male Rapunsel and the distressed, reclusive damsel (who Seamus had declared hot, in that mental postal worker sort of way) turned out to be, well, perfectly normal. They were alone--together, held captive in their mutual prisons.  
  
Smiling, the two continued to swing.  
_  
Blackbird fly  
Blackbird fly  
Into the light of the dark black night   
  
***  
  
_Well, I had the idea for this fic while taking my cousins to the park. I was swinging on the swingset with them, and the fic came to me. Later that night, I was listening to the White Album, and I thought hmm, let's make it a songfic! So there you have it. I hope you enjoyed it. 


End file.
